The Bet & The Heart.

CHAPTER XVI

Syafiq felt a surge of determination as the plane taxied down the runway. The wheels touched the ground with a jolt, mirroring the thrum of his heart as he prepared himself for what lay ahead. As soon as he was able, he grabbed his bag and made his way through the airport, his mind racing with everything he wanted to say to Sofia. He could still recall the way she looked at him before he stormed off, the silent tension that lingered between them—full of emotions they had never dared to speak aloud.

He wondered if she was expecting him, if she had thought about him as much as he had thought about her in the days since she left. Did she even know that he was on his way? Had anyone told her?

The uncertainty gnawed at him, but he pushed it aside. This was not the time to be second-guessing. He had come all this way to make things right, to fight for the woman who had become the center of his world.

As he made his way out of the terminal, he called for a ride, his fingers trembling slightly as he typed Sofia's address into the app. The wait for the car felt agonizingly slow, but when it finally arrived, he wasted no time climbing in, his heart racing with anticipation.

As the taxi wove through the bustling streets of Singapore, Syafiq couldn't help but admire the city's sleek skyline and the rhythmic flow of traffic.

The towering buildings loomed like giants, their bright lights flickering to life as dusk painted the sky in shades of deep blue. This was a world far removed from the one he knew—a realm of frenetic energy and cosmopolitan elegance—but in that moment, nothing felt as significant as the address Aunt Emelda had hastily scribbled for him.

The paper crinkled in his grip as he stole another glance at it, then shifted his gaze to the sprawling streets and gleaming skyscrapers gliding past. A whirlwind of anticipation and anxiety twisted in his chest, but he reminded himself that he needed to do this.

As the taxi turned onto a quieter, tree-lined street, Syafiq felt his heartbeat quicken. The houses here were magnificent—grand and meticulously well-kept—each one a testament to wealth and old heritage, starkly different from the modest, functional homes of his village.

They towered over him with their elegant facades, lush gardens, and intricately designed features, radiating a beauty he had only ever seen in magazines.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself amidst the surge of emotions. When the taxi finally came to a stop in front of a large, white colonial-style house, his eyes widened in awe. The place was breathtaking, with its stately columns and manicured lawn, making his heart race with a mix of admiration and intimidation.

Clutching his bag tightly, Syafiq stepped out of the taxi, the familiar twinge of uncertainty settling in his stomach as he approached the front door. How could someone like him, from a humble village, fit into this world? The weight of that question loomed over him, but he pushed it aside. He was here for Sofia, and nothing else mattered.

For a brief moment, he wondered if he should just leave, if maybe it was better to let things be. But the thought vanished as quickly as it came, and with resolve tightening his features, he raised his hand and knocked.

The door opened after a few moments, and standing there was Sofia's mother. Syafiq's heart pounded as Sofia's mother stood there, her brow furrowing as she took him in. He could see the hesitation in her eyes, the way she looked at him as though he were a piece of a puzzle that didn't quite fit.

Standing on the doorstep of this grand home, with its sprawling garden and perfectly maintained façade, Syafiq was acutely aware of how out of place he felt. He didn't belong in this world of elegance and privilege. The gap between his life and Sofia's seemed to yawn wider than ever, a chasm he wasn't sure he could cross.